


Tantalus and the Golden Hour

by nonky



Category: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: "I think the longer the mystery endures, the more important it might be to pace yourself," Owen said softly. "If it's taken this long, it's not getting solved tonight. So you also need to admit you nearly died, and getting CPR is pretty hard on the body. You need to close your eyes and sleep. Just let yourself be warm and safe until you can heal. Between your fisticuffs and your poisonings, there have to be a few quiet nights. Let this be one of them."Spoilers for Episode 11.
Relationships: Nancy Drew/Owen Marvin
Kudos: 22
Collections: Nancy Drew TV Series (2019)





	Tantalus and the Golden Hour

Nancy knew her doors were locked, but she looked outside at the cars anyway. She'd been using her father's occasionally because it was better for groceries and less conspicuous unless someone had the ability to look up the plates. She made sure the house was secure and told herself not to be paranoid. The Hudsons didn't roam the night taking their revenge. They just ruined lives and bought flunkies to delegate the violence.

Except there was a jeep parked across the street, and she was pretty sure the driver was watching her house. She was in pajama pants and a hoodie, so she shoved on a pair of shoes and ran across to tap on the window gently. Neither of them looked surprised when the driver lowered the window.

Owen Marvin gave her a sheepish look as he peeked out with a pout she looked at a few seconds too long. He wasn't a wise addition to her life. She had too much to manage without adding another whirlwind handful of good moments and a regretful breakup. Their flirtation had gone too far. People thought they could use her to get to him, and if she hadn't made good with Bashiir it might have been the last chance to avenge the Bonny Scot's crew. Worse still, people were right to see the soft spot Owen had for her, which meant her fondness for him was presumed.

"Hi, Nancy," he said. "I must have fallen asleep for a minute. Big day today. I think it was the stress."

She saw he'd changed clothes and gone somewhere for a cup of coffee. His jacket was thrown across the passenger seat along with a convenience store shopping bag. 

"You can't sit outside my house all night," Nancy said. "The neighbours are definitely wondering about you, and I know from the steam off your coffee you haven't even been here half an hour. I'm an eighteen year old girl living alone with my father in jail. I'm literally the local gossip to watch. Park in my driveway and meet me in the house."

She wasn't fooled by his humble silence. Owen wouldn't be bullied. The best Nancy could do would be to avoid having another scene with a man in her life getting arrested on her doorstep.

Owen let himself in and she heard him locking the deadbolt. Her temper flared momentarily. He wasn't giving up on her. She didn't want another moment of weakness, and his temptation was the highlight of her days lately. He'd been around longer than usual, and summer was over. His real life was elsewhere, and settling the case of the Bonny Scot had closed his personal baggage in Horseshoe Bay.

"I have red licorice," he said, holding up the bag. He had brought in his coffee as well, and was taking off his shoes. He did a very good boyfriend act for someone she'd never dated. 

"Make yourself at home," she said wryly. "You know, when someone very nearly betrays your lifelong goal for a shady solution to her own crisis, you shouldn't bring candy and guard her while she sleeps."

He looked at her calmly. "I don't think you sleep anymore, and you didn't betray me. Maybe if there was no survivor, you would have handed over bomb fragments or an artifact to the Hudsons. The second you met Bashiir, I knew you would keep him safe," Owen told her. "Also, my Aunt Diana would like to invite you for a meal. She knows who you are. I think you've met when you were were invited along with your parents to a few benefits over the years. I'm not going to pretend I remember an awkward preteen meeting between us. But your attendance at the Velvet Masque and the dinner this evening made an impression."

She blinked. "Owen, she can't have meant it was a good impression. The first time I was Ryan Hudson's plus one and tonight I was plotting with his father."

The elite families of the town wouldn't want a snooping disgraced lawyer's daughter attending their events. Nancy might have been welcome to their potato sack races, but that was good PR when she was a precocious town hero. She shook her head. Diana Marvin was more likely just mouthing the good manners of anyone who lived in a small town. Sometimes you gave an invitation, knowing the intent was to have it politely declined with a flattered excuse. 

"You really need to let me forget that you've been on one more date with Ryan than you'll go on with me. You were double crossing Everett," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Consider it payback for at least five favours."

She hadn't forgotten his kiss, or anything about his touch. Nancy wasn't stupid. She wanted him, and holding herself back was difficult when he kept presenting himself like an easy option. But there were no easy options in Horseshoe Bay, when she knew her path would cross with literally everyone. Her investigations eventually made enemies in every powerful family. 

She was tired of being forgiven, but never being able to pass relatively unknown into rooms looking for her next quarry. People thought of her negatively, and Nancy found herself burdened by her reputation as often as people were excited to help her. 

"I don't think I want the free pass anymore," she said seriously. "I'm obviously not able to stop being reckless before it hurts people. I dig until I'm drawing blood, and it's too late to be sorry."

"I could argue anyone with secrets you want has the option of just helping you, because you will watch their backs if they have done nothing wrong," Owen told her. "I can tell you things because you're not out fishing for gossip. You want to know where people stand. It's not an antisocial impulse to want truth and to be willing to see flaws. You're not out to see anyone hang."

She gave up with a sigh, leading Owen into the living room where her blanket waited for her return to the sofa. 

"My father sheltered me. I didn't understand how much he did until I realized he's smarter than I am. All the times I thought I was being so sneaky, at least half of them he was weighing the cost of letting me get away with it to give me agency to learn from my mistakes," Nancy told him. "Even when he caught me, he was careful to have a light touch. I mistook his careful handling of discipline for getting things past him. He's not dangerous to me, but he is powerful. I never saw it, because I never had any fear."

Her slump to the sofa was followed by Owen's quick move to sit next to her, his body tipped toward her and his arm around her shoulders. He'd kept his eyes on her, listening with a neutral expression. He even managed to end up sharing her blanket, and the whole arrangement was suspiciously cozy after a nudge to invite her tired head over to his shoulder. 

"Everyone takes their loved ones for granted until they might be taken away," Owen said softly. "And no one gets to begrudge you a good father. Family should feel like safety."

"I love my father," she said haltingly. "That's stupid and obvious. He's my father. I really had no choice. But I know looking back I had a charmed life. My parents were happy. People saw us as a family and envied it. They were admirable and they did good things. I was under their protection and I lived under their privilege. There's an ice cream parlour here where they still won't let me pay. My father helped with a tax problem when I was six. We were never rich, but my parents were important in this town. They supported me as much as they loved me. They had glowing reputations. It got me in some doors and extended some trust I hadn't earned."

Owen leaned in, nodding. He was smiling slightly, maybe picturing her younger self terrorizing the neighbours over lost dogs and missing newspapers.

"My mother died, and nobody envied us anymore. We have debts but those are - I don't care about money. We spent it on saving her because we had to try everything we could. My dad was rebuilding his life. He was working and dating and I screwed it up accusing him of murder. So what he has left is his legal knowledge and how much he loves me. And I know now, he loves me enough to literally die for me. It's not good enough. I want him to fight, and he's playing dumb."

It was a physical pain to need to defend her father, and Nancy bit her tongue a thousand times a day. She said the right things and ignored whispers because she needed her job, and the restaurant needed the customers who showed up to gawk at her. She walked away from newsstands with libel printed boldly in her name, and sat through police interviews with as much patience as she possessed. 

"Maybe he has a strategy he's building with his lawyer," Owen suggested. "Something that requires some time to put together. He knows you won't stop fighting for him, too."

She could hope there was an impressive last minute tactic to be unfurled like a victory banner and a secret weapon honed to a perfect edge. It was more likely things would get desperate, and someone would get worried Carson's testimony would lead to places they didn't want to revisit. She was stuck waiting for someone to make a mistake and reveal the guilt they'd been hiding successfully for decades.

"It's a cold case older than I am. I could run straight at someone and accuse them to their faces because my father would protect me," Nancy said. "And I know he's still powerful in certain ways, even dangerous for what he knows, but not as a prisoner. So I just look like I'm self-destructively calling out anyone who was around when Lucy died. I need a fresh lead."

"I think the longer the mystery endures, the more important it might be to pace yourself," Owen said softly. "If it's taken this long, it's not getting solved tonight. So you also need to admit you nearly died, and getting CPR is pretty hard on the body. You need to close your eyes and sleep. Just let yourself be warm and safe until you can heal. Between your fisticuffs and your poisonings, there have to be a few quiet nights. Let this be one of them."

He was hypnotic, swaying them with his breathing. Owen brushed her hair off her nose and cuddled her with a plush fold of the blanket bunching in her arm like a stuffed animal. Nancy registered her eyes had closed, and decided not to try to wake up. She could take just a short nap. Her ghosts didn't show up with company in the house. She might even be able to get through the night without interruption. She felt Owen's hand slide across her own, closing on her forearm. It was possessive, and she should dial back his comfort level to the friendly boundaries of quick, clothed visits.

"I didn't invite you to spend the night," she said, keeping a grumpy tone as his warm sigh ruffled her hair. 

"And I wouldn't dream of over-reaching chivalry to imposing on your sleep. I'm going to stay an hour or so, drink my coffee, let you fall asleep, and then I'll let myself out with the set of keys on the table by the door. I'll use them to lock up and drop them back through the mail slot."

Owen said it reasonably, like she should expect the comfort of his body for free. His timing was amazing, and Nancy would be lying if she rejected him. It sounded nice to be held until she could rest. She would like to close her eyes and only open them to a warm sunrise instead of Lucy's bluish lighthouse tint as nightmares permeated her subconscious. 

"Mrs. Roche will call the police on you if you don't drive away later," she warned. 

"As well she should! I'm a strange man lingering outside your house trying to bribe you with candy. You should let yourself yawn. I can tell it's building and I think it's probably going to be adorable."

Nancy immediately felt how tired she was, audibly yawning with a little grumble at the end. "One hour."

His arm dropped to her waist. She felt Owen's shift back so he could pick up his coffee and sip quietly. "One hour and I'll text you in the morning. Maybe we'll get some food."

He was seemingly never going to give up, but he had changed his posture to a more casual slump. Nancy would worry about his emotional investment tomorrow. She shut her eyes and let her body huddle to his heat.


End file.
